Shark Attack!
by Channel D
Summary: The team investigates a crime that's close to home. Very close. Ficlet, humor, crack!fic, gen, set in season 7 or later.


**Shark Attack!**

**by channeld**

_written because_: it's a strange week. And; it's _Shark Week_. More or less.  
_rating_: K plus  
_genre_: crack!fic/humor  
_characters_: the usual

* * *

_disclaimer_: I still own nothing of NCIS.

* * *

Tony continued talking as if there had been no interruption. "—and then Ziva, who is always stuffing food in her mouth—"

"I am not!" Ziva yelped.

"—says, 'Gibbs, can we not stop at McDonalds on the way? I am _dying_ for some chicken McNuggets.' And Gibbs shoots back, 'There are no food places between here and the crime scene, Ziver.' "

"I have never even _had_ McNuggets!" Ziva protested.

"Then why did you tell Gibbs you wanted some?"

"That was _you_, Tony," Tim accused.

"Don't change the subject, McNugget. The point is, we were all set to go riding off to somewhere, when Gibbs says—"

"For Pete's sake, DiNozzo; stop jawing and get over here. The crime scene's just across the street." Gibbs called, scowling, from the path leading to the _U. S. S. Barry._

"Just about to quote you, boss." The three agents looked both ways before crossing Sicard Street in front of NCIS HQ, and then carrying their gear across Willard Park to the river bank. It was not your typical crime scene location.

* * *

Ducky and Jimmy had even beaten the team there, having not needed a map to find the place. Ducky knelt beside the grisly sight of dismembered, savaged bodies of two Navy men in khaki service uniform. The bodies had been found floating in the river, near the docked exhibition ship_._

"Tell me the cause of death is not what I think it is, Duck," said Gibbs.

"I don't know what you're thinking, but I would venture that both died from severe trauma to their bodies inflicted by…I would say at a guess, _great white_ _sharks."_

"Sharks. In the Anacostia River?" Ziva said, dubiously. "I do not think so."

"Better to be safe than sorry," said Jimmy. "Should we put out a swimmer's alert?" He reached for his cell phone.

Gibbs held him back, with the long-suffering look he usually wore in Jimmy's presence. "River's too polluted for swimming, anyway."

"Then why would sharks…?"

"Sharks out to get humans is a myth," said Tony. "_Jaws_ notwithstanding, sharks don't really care for the taste of humans. It's like getting a veggie burger when you've ordered a hamburger. Not at all the same. Sharks only bite humans because they have bad eyesight and just assume that humans are seals, which _do_ taste good to sharks."

Wincing slightly at the gore, Tim identified the bodies by the fingerprint scanner. "Arne Chilks and Roy Bellman," he said. "Does that match the names on their name tags?" He didn't really want to look too closely at the bodies.

"Yep," said Gibbs, and pointed a thumb at the insignia over the ribbons and the name tag and the shirts. "And here's your answer, Palmer." He pointed at the insignia above the name tags. "They're Navy SEALs."

"Whoa. So it really was a shark attack!"

"I can't believe that there are sharks around here." Tim shook his head.

Gibbs looked up at the small but growing crowd of Navy Yard workers spending their lunch hour just the other side of the yellow _crime scene_ tape. "Ziva. McGee. Get those gawkers out of here."

He then turned back to the bodies until Ziva's voice rose in a question. "Gibbs?"

"What?"

"I found a _shark_, as you call it, in the crowd."

Gibbs glowered at the woman that Ziva thrust forward. "Attorney Hart! I should have known."

"I can't imagine what you could be referring to, Mr. Gibbs," M. Allison Hart said, sounding less confident than she seemed to be aiming for.

"Where were you at—Ducky; what's the time of death?" Tony asked, his head swinging back and forth between Hart and the ME.

"The liver probe indicates about six hours ago. Dawn along the river."

"Well?" Tony demanded of Hart.

"I was—would you believe that those are my clients?"

"I don't believe anything you say."

"Would you believe that they _were_ my clients, but didn't pay me?"

Tim ran a scanner over Hart's blouse and skirt. "Traces of blood, boss."

"You're under arrest, Ms. Hart, for the murder of these two men," said Gibbs, slapping handcuffs on her. "And for trying to avoid prosecution by casting the blame on helpless aquatic creatures."

"That's not a crime!" she protested. "You're making that up."

"We'll see about that. Maybe we should put you up against real sharks."

"They wouldn't touch her, boss," Tony said with regret.

"Why's that?"

"Professional courtesy."

-END-


End file.
